


Life After Harold

by Sea_Of_Sound



Category: Pale Saints
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Animal Death, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Graphic Description, Graphic Description of Corpses, M/M, Major Character Injury, Multi, Nightmare Fuel, Sad, Wartime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:07:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 9,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22702207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sea_Of_Sound/pseuds/Sea_Of_Sound
Summary: When their home is destroyed by an air strike to Leeds, four people are forced to leave everything behind except for the clothes on their backs and what they can fit into backpacks and live out the remainder of their lives roaming the country in search of a new home. Will they find it, or will tragedy catch up to them?
Relationships: Graeme Naysmith/Chris Cooper, Ian Masters/Meriel Barham
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter One

No moon was to be seen on that chilly autumn evening. Only the stars shone above the party of four, but even the galaxies and constellations above could not bring them joy. It had been a mere three days since Harold Avenue had been demolished by an air strike to Leeds town centre, but to them it felt like years.  
Now, it seemed as though the quartet were asleep, laying silently under the night sky. The fields had become their beds in the nighttime, the roads they walked their home. But one of them wasn't asleep at all, and by dim lantern light he was writing in a small blue journal.

28 October, 1992  
I don't know how much more we can take of this. The loss of Harold Avenue has completely destroyed Graeme and Chris; they both refuse to eat, and the light doesn't shine in their eyes like it used to. They don't smile anymore. They cry themselves to sleep each night, holding each other until they fall asleep, and even then they don't sleep the whole night. They have nightmares about the air strike. Graeme woke up sobbing last night, screaming for his mother and father to save him. It pains me seeing them like this. I miss Chris's adorable smile; his playful demeanour is gone. He's become a hollow, cynical shell of his former self. He's mostly been silent now, staring glumly at the roads and sighing. He clings to Graeme, holding his hand as we walk. I think Graeme's really the only one keeping him alive; if Graeme had died when our home collapsed, I think Chris would have killed himself unless he died with Graeme.  
That's not even getting to what Meriel's like. I worry for her. Before the air strike she was cheerful, sweet, with a gorgeous smile and a gentle disposition. Now, she's like Chris: bitter, disillusioned, maybe even angry. She doesn't smile anymore. She won't let me hold her like she used to. I've been cold without her. I just want to feel her body pressed against mine again. I want to hear her sigh when I kiss her neck, those lovely moans when I touch her just right.  
It's left me cold. I just can't feel anymore. I silently curse everyone and everything that has led to this. I just can't feel warmth and joy like I used to. I just can't.  
Ian xx

He closed the journal slowly, then tucked it safely in his backpack. He blew the flame out of the lantern, then laid down on the grass. Just before he fell asleep, he swore he could hear Meriel quietly start to cry.


	2. Chapter Two

Ian had snatched up a few rabbits that morning, which he hoped would be enough to last them for a week or two. He skinned one of the rabbits, collecting the pelt and stuffing it into his backpack. It wouldn't be enough to keep him warm, of course, but the feeling of the soft fur on his hand brought him comfort.  
"Good morning, Ian," whispered Meriel, sitting down beside him.  
"Morning, Meriel."  
Ian looked up at her. She seemed paler than usual, her blue eyes dull as she watched Ian strip the meat off of the rabbit's bones.  
"You okay?"  
"Yeah."  
Ian wasn't convinced, but said nothing in reply and continued putting the meat into a plastic container.  
Meriel stood suddenly, muttering "I'll be right back" quickly before darting towards an open area in the field, a hand moving towards her mouth. Ian watched in concern as Meriel bent at the waist, retching as she vomited last night's "dinner". Ian put down the rabbit and the knife, and rushed over to her.  
She finished, slowly returning upright as Ian offered her a few mint leaves. Graciously she accepted them, popping two into her mouth and chewing slowly.  
"Two days now this has happened," Ian observed. Meriel shook her head.  
"Think it may be the fallout already?"  
Ian shrugged, crossing his arms and looking back at Graeme and Chris, who stared expressionless at the pair from where they stood, backpacks already donned, Graeme's hand firmly gripping Chris's hand.  
"Think you can make it back?"  
"I'm fine."  
Ian nodded, walking alongside Meriel back to the "camp". Ian reached out a hand, moving to wrap it around her arm gently, only to be met with a sharp glare. Ian just put his hand back down.  
Ian kneeled down again, continuing to clean off the rabbit. Meriel exhaled with a soft moan of pain, laying down as she wrapped an arm around her stomach. She didn't know why she felt like this now; she wondered how long it took for the effects of radioactive fallout to hit. She closed her eyes and hoped silently that the nausea would pass.  
"Graeme? Chris? You want some of this?" Ian held up a piece of meat, only to be met with the shaking of heads.  
"Not hungry," Graeme flatly said. Chris said nothing, but continued to hold Graeme's hand.  
"It's alright," Ian barely whispered. Meriel stood up slowly, walking over to her backpack and putting it on.  
Ian finished putting the meat into the container soon afterwards. He decided to leave the bones; they wouldn't be much use to the party. Grasping the container and standing upright, he walked over to the rest of the group. He bent down and stuffed the container into his backpack. As he stood up again, he could see an ominous sky. He gave a noise of dismay, prompting Chris, Graeme, and Meriel to look at him in concern.  
"What?" Graeme mumbled.  
"Look over that way," he said, pointing to the left distance. They all looked together and saw dark clouds forming. A storm would be coming that day, and Ian wasn't sure they could handle it.  
"We'll catch cold," Graeme sniffed, "Not that it'd matter anyway, when that fallout is hitting us." Chris stole a worried glance to Meriel, who simply nodded with another sigh.  
"Insult to injury," he huffed. Graeme looked to Chris, who only rested his head on his shoulder. Meriel was the first to speak up after a prolonged silence.  
"We better get going."  
Ian nodded silently and slung his backpack over his shoulder, walking towards the road, the other three following not far behind.


	3. Chapter Three

The skies were dark as twilight. Large drops of rain started to fall around them. Ian swore under his breath, putting his backpack over his head to keep him dry. Graeme pulled the hood of Chris's sweater over his head, prompting a nod of thanks from his beloved. The sweater was a sort of comfort item to Chris; he hadn't taken it off since they left the Harolds. Meriel held her head low, not caring if she got wet. She knew she'd catch cold, but considering her sickness she didn't think it would matter to her.  
Just then, a loud clap of thunder roared above them. Graeme froze, his entire body trembling as he collapsed into the dirt.  
"No... No... Not again..." he whimpered. Chris sighed, kneeling beside him and holding him close.  
"What are you doing?!" Ian yelled over the pouring rain.  
"It's the air strike!" Chris yelled back, "The thunder reminds him of the air strike!"  
"That doesn't matter! We need to keep going!"  
"He can't move when he's like this!!" Another thunderclap sounded, prompting a loud scream from Graeme.  
"THAT'S RIDICULOUS! YOU DON'T SEE MERIEL CRYING LIKE A BABY OVER A BIT OF THUNDER!"  
"DON'T BE INSENSITIVE, IAN! HIS PARENTS DIED IN THE AIR STRIKE!"  
Meriel's heart pounded as she listened to Ian and Chris arguing; she could feel bile start to rise inside of her, and her breaths became shakier.  
"CHRIS, WE HAVE TO KEEP GOING! IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT HAPPENED BEFORE ALL OF THIS!!"  
"I'M GOING TO BE SICK AGAIN!" Meriel screamed, falling on her hands and knees. She was barely able to get the last word out before vomit filled her mouth. Ian rushed over to her, looking back at Chris and Graeme.  
"YOU STAY THERE WITH GRAEME, I'LL TEND TO MERIEL!"  
Chris nodded as his beloved friend trembled intensely from another thunderclap.  
"It's okay Jock, it'll be over soon." Chris held him close, closing his eyes and moving Graeme's head to his chest.  
Ian stroked Meriel's back as she threw up onto the pathway. He winced as a particularly loud retch came from her, easily audible over the thunder and pouring rain. After what seemed like the longest time, she finished, panting and sobbing quietly as she moved upright again. Ian took a bottle of water from his backpack, then took Meriel into his arms, cradling her as she clutched his shirt.  
"Here, Meriel. You need this." He unscrewed the cap, giving Meriel small sips of water, which she graciously accepted. She rested her head on his shoulder, sighing softly.  
At last the thunder and lightning ceased, the rain slowing to a light shower. Chris picked Graeme up, gently lifting him off the ground, while Ian did the same to Meriel.  
"We should head into that field for tonight, I don't think we'll be going anywhere anymore until morning."  
"You're right," Chris said, following Ian to the fence. They stepped over it carefully so as to avoid slipping in the mud, then walked into the grass. Ian set Meriel gently down on it, stroking her hair softly. Chris put Graeme down beside her, Graeme's panic attack having tired him. He walked over to where Ian stood. Ian didn't look at him, nor did he say anything, but slowly took Chris into his arms as he stared into the distant town. Chris did the same to him, looking along with Ian.  
"Chris... I'm really sorry I yelled at you. It was selfish of me."  
"It's okay Ian," Chris said, "And I'm sorry I yelled at you as well."  
"It's okay."  
They stood in silence for a long time, watching as the skies darkened, nightfall setting in.  
"Ian?"  
"Yeah, Chris?"  
"Why is this happening to us? Why did we have to lose our home?"  
Ian looked at Chris, who stared up at him tearfully.  
"I..." Ian tried to think of something to say, but ultimately failed. "I just don't know."  
"It isn't fair..." Chris said, tears falling down his cheeks, "It just isn't fair..." Chris buried his face into Ian's shoulder, quietly sobbing. Ian could feel tears forming in his own eyes, and he held Chris tighter to him as they cried not just for the loss of their home, but for the state of the entire world.  
After a few minutes they pulled away, sniffling quietly.  
"I guess we should try to sleep now," Ian said.  
"Yeah..."  
They looked at each other, then leaned into a soft kiss on the lips. They turned away, walking over to Graeme and Meriel, who both now slept soundly; Chris laid down behind Graeme, curling an arm around him, while Ian laid beside Meriel, his eyes looking over her. He sighed, curling into her. She stirred underneath his touch, looking at him blearily.  
"Ian?"  
"It's me, Meriel," he gently reassured her.  
"Okay." She looked down, biting her lip, then turned towards him, curling into his form as a soft breeze blew around them.  
"I love you, Ian."  
Ian held her, and just before he closed his eyes, he whispered to her: "I love you too."


	4. Chapter Four

Ian was the last to awaken, and he saw that the other three were already up, backpacks donned.  
"Good morning, Mez?"  
"Hmm," came her response. She had resorted to gnawing on mint leaves in an attempt to get the taste of bile from her mouth. Ian sighed, putting his backpack on and walking towards the fence.  
"Be careful climbing over this everyone," he warned, "There's still mud around this way from last night-"  
Ian lost his balance, hitting his head on the wooden fence. The pain seared through him, and for a second he thought he was going to black out.  
Meriel rushed to his side, taking him into her arms.  
"Ian! Ian, are you alright?"  
He nodded, grunting as he stood up. He gave a weak grin.  
"See what I mean, you lot?"  
This elicited a chuckle from everyone, even Chris. Ian supposed this was a good sign, and as soon as everyone had climbed over the fence and into the road, they began to walk on.  
From the bushes came a sudden rustling noise. They stopped, staring at them intently.  
"Someone, get your knife. I don't know what it is, but it doesn't sound good."  
It was Graeme who took his knife first, holding it in his hand, ready to launch it at whatever was in the brush.  
Out came a wild dog, snarling as it charged at the group. Graeme hurled his knife at it as hard as he could; to his dismay, he missed it by mere inches. As the dog lunged at him, he slammed his fist into the dog's muzzle. It stopped, whining as it stepped back in a daze.  
"Everyone stay back, just in case it-"  
Graeme screamed as the dog latched onto his arm, digging its teeth deep into his skin. He punched the dog again, but this time it was undeterred.  
Meriel pulled her knife out of her bag, looking over the animal. With a roar, she ran at them, driving her knife into the dog's neck. The dog released its grip on Graeme's arm, and with a quiet whine it collapsed dead onto the ground. Meriel panted, staring at the dog, making sure it was dead.  
"I hate to kill an animal," she began, "But I couldn't just stand there and watch you get hurt."  
Graeme took her into his arms, kissing her softly on the cheek.  
"Meriel... You saved me. I don't know what to say but thank you."  
"It was the least I could do," she replied, a soft smile on her face.  
Ian rushed over to them, gingerly taking Graeme's arm. He grimaced, noting the dark blood coming from the gashes.  
"Chris, could you check my bag for some ointment? I'm not sure if it can be used since the wound is so deep, but it may help anyway."  
Chris nodded, rummaging through Ian's bag. He found a tube of ointment, though it was small.  
"Here," he said, handing it to Ian, "I found this, don't know how much is in it."  
"Ah, thanks Chris," Ian said, "It's still something to help him." Ian squirted a bit into his hand, then gently rubbed the salve onto Graeme's arm. Graeme hissed from the pain, but Ian shushed him, quietly reassuring him he'd be okay.  
"There," Ian said, "Hopefully it'll work. If we had a bandage wrap to cover the wounds it'd be better."  
Graeme nodded, then retrieved his knife, putting it in his pocket and walking back to Chris.  
Meriel looked back at the dog, then to Ian.  
"I think the dog may be useful."  
"Yeah?"  
"Well, I mean we could probably just... Skin it, and use its meat for food." Meriel shuddered, shaking her head. Ian was silent for a minute, then slowly nodded.  
"I think you're right," he quietly said, "One of you, grab it. But we need to get going fast. Before we know it it'll be sundown."  
Chris took the dog, holding it in his arms, being careful to avoid touching the wound. They continued on down the road, and walked the rest of the day in silence.


	5. Chapter Five

They sat in the grass, the moon shining above them. Graeme looked at his arm, surveying the damage that the dog had caused. Meanwhile, Ian was busy skinning the animal and packing the meat into the container in the same manner that he had collected the rabbit meat a few days earlier. Meriel stared up at the sky, counting the constellations. She thought of the war, and what possibly happened to her family. She shook her head; it pained her to even think about it. Chris hummed softly to himself, watching as Ian did his work.  
"The stars look beautiful out here," Meriel said to Graeme softly.  
"Yeah..." came his gentle reply. He put his arm down, hoping that the wounds wouldn't become infected.  
"You know, Jock..." Meriel began, "I'm thankful to have met you guys. If I hadn't, I don't know where I would be right now."  
Graeme nodded.  
"I'm thankful to have met you as well. We all are."  
Chris sat down across from them, crossing his legs as he took Meriel's hand.  
"Meriel, I didn't get to say it earlier, but thank you for saving Graeme from that dog."  
"Anything for you all," she quietly said.  
Ian closed the container, putting the pelt into his bag and placing the bones by the fence.  
He walked over to the rest of the group, sitting beside Meriel and wrapping an arm around her.  
"You really are a hero, darling," he said, "And I must say, we all would be lost without you."  
"Thank you," she said, hugging him tightly against her.  
"And Ian," Graeme continued, "We have to thank you as well. You've always been there for us when we needed you. And especially now, you're the one holding us together."  
"We can't do it without you," Chris added. Ian nodded with a soft smile. He was trying to hold back tears, only this time they weren't tears of sadness or pain. And it seemed the others were doing the same, as Ian watched them talk amongst themselves and embrace each other. He was grateful to have found them when he did.  
He realised something then, and his heart sank, his smile fading as it occurred to him.  
This was the happiest they'd been since the war started, and the happiest they'd ever be again.


	6. Chapter Six

The wind blew fiercely around them. They shivered, walking close to each other. Ian wondered if snowfall would start at some point, and he shook his head with a sigh. If it did snow, all four would surely die.  
His biggest wish was that all of this never happened.

It was early October when it all began. Ian and Meriel had returned from a week in Paris, and in that time had gotten engaged. They had finished unpacking, returning into the living room where Chris and Graeme had sat watching football. Judging by the looks on their faces, Leeds seemed to had lost.  
"Didn't win?"  
"Nope," Chris said with a snort.  
"Oh well," Ian said, sitting down beside them, "It'll be okay, perhaps we'll do better next t-"  
He was interrupted by the loud sound of an alert tone. Everyone looked at the television, wondering what the hell was happening. Their blood turned to ice as they listened: a 300-kiloton nuclear missile was headed straight for London, and that massive retaliation was imminent. They looked at each other, all collectively exhaling after inadvertently holding their breath.  
"Fucking hell," Ian said after a prolonged period of silence. Not even Chris was speaking, let alone joking about it as he was prone to do. Ian looked at him, and noticed he had turned a deathly shade of white. It was then that he knew for certain this was serious.  
"So... What happens now?" Graeme asked, his tone muted. Ian thought for a minute.  
"I don't know."  
Meriel stepped into the kitchen, taking a beer from the fridge. Shakily she opened it, sitting down at the table. She didn't expect this to happen so soon, or even at all for that matter. She sipped it slowly, watching the boys talk about the possibilities of the war.  
"Should we go ahead and prepare for an air strike here?" she asked.  
"I think she's right," Chris said, his voice scarily quiet. Ian nodded, standing up again.  
"Meriel? Coming with me?"  
Meriel nodded, walking over to Ian's side and walking into their room together. Ian closed the door, his hands shaking. Meriel sat down on the bed, taking another sip of beer.  
"God..." she said with a sigh, "In all my life I never imagined this would be happening."  
"I think that's true for everyone," Ian replied, sitting down beside her. He wrapped an arm around her as she finished off the can. She threw the empty can into the trash, then put her head in her hands.  
"And Ian," she sadly began, "It seemed like our life had just gotten started. We're engaged, for fuck's sake! This shouldn't be happening now!"  
Ian couldn't reply, watching as Meriel began to softly weep.  
"Listen, darling," Ian said after a period of silence, "This world might be going to shit because of this war, but you know what? We still have each other. I'll still love you even though our lives are in danger. Understand?"  
Meriel nodded.  
"Okay, dear."  
Ian gently rested his hand on Meriel's chin, guiding her head up to look at him. Their lips met, and the world seemed a million miles away in that moment.  
"I love you, Meriel."  
"I love you too, Ian."

Mere weeks later, the bombs reached Leeds, one exploding over the city. The blast destroyed nearly everything in a one hundred mile radius, and they had just gotten to the basement in time.  
Their friends, however, weren't so lucky. After they managed to remove the rubble from over the basement door, they carefully left, and just before they started their trek around the country in search of another shelter, they had stopped by the flat.  
And there amongst the glass, wood, and brick lay the bodies of their closest friends.  
They stood there for a while, mourning their losses. But sundown was rapidly approaching, and they needed to find shelter soon. Thus, they began walking.  
To this day, they couldn't find anywhere that could help them. They found a bed in the grasses of fields, food in the animals they caught, and water from the rivers and streams.  
And despite all the pain, sickness, and fear, they found comfort in each other.


	7. Chapter Seven

The skies were silver when Ian awoke. He surveyed the area around him, and had deduced that it had rained a bit while they slept. He heard stirring beside him, and looking to his side he caught Graeme's eye. They stared into each other's eyes for a second, then Ian turned away again as Graeme started off to the edge of the woods. He looked to his other side and noticed Meriel was beginning to awaken as well, her blue eyes fluttering open.  
"Good morning, Meriel," Ian whispered.  
"Hmm?" Meriel looked around before seeing Ian. "Oh... Morning."  
Ian said nothing in return, but looked to Chris as Graeme began walking back. Ian stared intensely at Chris, noticing that something was off about the way he slept. Chris's pale skin seemed slightly darker, though Ian couldn't tell whether or not it was the cloud cover. It was then that he noticed Chris was unusually still.  
"Hey," Graeme said, "Wake up, Chris, it's time to start walking again." Graeme shook Chris's shoulder; Ian felt his heart beginning to race, a panic setting within him.  
"Chris?" Graeme said, slightly louder, "Hey, come on now, we need to get going... Come on, get up..."  
Ian looked at Meriel, who seemed to be developing the same amount of panic as she, too, began to realise what had happened. Ian looked back to Graeme, who was also beginning to notice something was terribly wrong.  
"Chris, come on, wake up! You're fucking scaring me, WAKE UP!" Graeme smacked Chris hard across the face, tears starting to fill his eyes. Chris didn't move. Neither did Ian. Neither did Meriel. Neither did Graeme.  
"Oh my god..." Graeme said quietly as tears started to run down his cheeks. Behind Ian, Meriel began to sob.  
"No..." she quietly moaned. At that moment, Ian himself couldn't stop his tears, and he curled into a ball, his entire body trembling. He closed his eyes, hoping to god this was all still a bad dream. But sadly for him, it was all real, and opening his eyes again he saw Meriel and Graeme clutching their friend's lifeless form.  
"No... Why is this happening?" Graeme sobbed, holding Chris closer to him. "My baby... Oh Chris, my sweet baby..." Meriel buried her face in her hands, sobs wracking her frail figure. Ian joined them where they kneeled, taking Meriel into his arms. Softly, Ian wept. She returned his embrace, laying her head on his shoulder. Her cheeks were wet by her tears.  
"Why him?" she sobbed. Ian shook his head, holding her closer. He had no idea what to say, if anything could be said at all.  
Ian regained his composure enough to finally speak.  
"Let's just stay here for the day," he said, "I don't want to leave him... Just laying here..." Ian trailed off, sobbing once more, and the other two did the same.  
The wind blew around them again. Ian knew another rainstorm would be coming, but he didn't care. In that moment, Chris was the only thing that mattered to him.  
There they stayed until sundown, the loss of their friend completely draining them of energy. Ian and Meriel laid down, holding each other as Meriel's sobs had quelled into steady breathing for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. Graeme opted to continue holding Chris's lifeless body, weeping silently as he wondered to himself why Chris had to be the one to die. It just didn't seem fair to him. He buried his face into the crook of Chris's neck, feeling how cold he had gotten.  
As they fell asleep, they could feel the cold rain begin to fall once again.


	8. Chapter Eight

Graeme held onto Chris' body, even though he felt like vomiting from the smell. He couldn't bear to let his beloved friend go, even though he knew he'd have to do so eventually.  
Meriel and Ian walked just a few feet ahead of him, their stomachs churning. They knew Graeme's sanity was quickly deteriorating, and both of them felt like their own wasn't too far behind. Last night, Ian had heard Graeme whispering to the corpse, and looking over to him he noticed Graeme was still holding onto it. He had just turned over again, as he couldn't handle the sight of Chris turning purple. He had warned Graeme that morning that decomposition was quickly setting in, but he wouldn't hear any of it, pretending that Chris was still alive, but merely sleeping.  
Graeme stopped, putting Chris' body down onto the ground. Ian and Meriel looked behind them at him, desperately trying to avoid looking at Chris. They watched as the contents of Graeme's stomach - or whatever little was left in it, anyway - emptied onto the roadside, and even they could feel a bit of sympathy for him.  
Ian walked over to him, stroking his back as Graeme finished. He laid his head on Ian's shoulder, wrapping his arms around him. Ian returned the embrace, kissing his forehead softly.  
"Graeme, dear..." Ian began, "Graeme, we should just go ahead and bury Chris. It's not doing any of us any good, besides, it's time we let him rest in peace."  
"But Ian..." Graeme said, his voice wavering, "I can't let him go. I... I feel like he'd hate me."  
Meriel shook her head, putting her hand on his shoulder, while Ian did the same with the other one.  
"Graeme, he's long dead. He wouldn't hate you for burying him. He would understand." She could feel tears in her eyes as she said this, and Ian himself started to sniffle.  
"I know how much you'll miss him, but I think it's time we let him go."  
Graeme nodded, tears running down his cheeks. He held Ian tighter, burying his face into his chest as sobs wracked his body. Ian's lip trembled as he held Graeme, and Meriel had also begun to quietly weep.  
"There, there Jock..."  
"Ian... I'll miss him so much..."  
"We'll all miss him," Ian cried. Meriel had joined them, the three holding each other as they mourned Chris.  
"Come now, pick him up again and we'll find some place to bury him..."  
Graeme nodded, taking Chris into his arms again and following Ian and Meriel into a nearby wooded area. The liquids from Chris' lifeless form seeped onto his arms, and he winced as he looked down and saw blisters forming on Chris' skin.  
As they walked, they could feel rain start to fall. They sighed. At least the ground would be soft enough to make his burial easier.  
Ian's foot hit something hard and metallic. Looking down, he noticed it was a small shovel.  
"Convenient," he scoffed. Meriel shrugged, watching as Ian picked it up.  
"Well..." she began, "I guess we should just bury him here."  
Graeme laid Chris' body onto the ground, taking one final look at him. He stroked his hair, cringing as it fell off into his hand. Meriel sat down beside him, wrapping her arms around him. Together they watched as Ian continued to dig as quickly as he could, the rain falling and forming a puddle inside the hole.  
"FUCK!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. He threw the shovel down, burying his face in his hands. His eyes stung with tears of frustration.  
Meriel ran over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder.  
"Babe?"  
"I'm okay, Meriel," he said, picking up the shovel again and returning to digging. She sadly looked at him, wishing she could help him in some way. She returned to Graeme, who stared solemnly at Ian, holding the hood of Chris' sweater in his hand. Meriel looked at the corpse, her stomach turning, but an idea popped up in her mind.  
"Jock," Meriel quietly said, "Why don't we try to wash the jumper and let you have it? You know... Something to remind you of him."  
Graeme looked at her, staring in silence for a few seconds, then slowly nodded.  
"I guess that'd help."  
Meanwhile, Ian had dug the hole as deep as he could make it. He exhaled, putting the shovel down.  
"Okay," Ian began, "Let's just go ahead and bury him."  
His friends turned to the body, starting to remove the sweater from Chris.  
"Whoa, hang on," Ian said, "Why are we taking his jumper off?"  
"Jock said it'd be something to remind him of Chris," Meriel explained, "We could try to wash it off and then give it to him-"  
"With the way it is now?" Ian asked incredulously, "It's infested with his bodily fluids from the decomposition! It'd just smell horrible!"  
"Now Ian," Meriel sternly said, "You know what he's been like these past two days. He still hasn't recovered from Chris dying. If he had the jumper, perhaps it'd give him some sort of comfort!"  
Ian looked at her, then looked to Graeme, who silently nodded. He sighed.  
"Okay, fine." Ian said, a hint of irritation in his voice. Meriel smiled, and she finished removing the jumper from Chris's body.  
"I'm sure there's a creek or some body of water somewhere so we can wash it off."  
Meriel took the jumper, looking to the others.  
"I'll try to find a creek and wash this off." Ian gave her the "okay" sign, then turned his attention back to Graeme, watching as he put his friend's body into the shallow grave.  
Meriel walked along the woodlands, keeping her eyes on the ground for any sign of traps that may have been set by hunters. She briefly paused to relieve herself behind a tree, and as she looked down as she finished, she noticed her abdomen appeared strangely, if only slightly, distended. She shrugged it off as she straightened herself out and continued walking, thinking that perhaps it was nothing.  
At last, she came upon a rushing body of water, and she quickly scrubbed the jumper off, realising that the boys were probably wondering where she was.  
She finished washing the jumper, quickly returning back to where the boys had finally finished burying Chris.  
"Here," Meriel said, handing the jumper to Graeme, "It may still be damp, but it's mostly clean."  
Graeme gingerly took the jumper, clutching it close to his chest. Ian and Meriel held their friend close, tearfully comforting him as the rain stopped.


	9. Chapter Nine

Ian took out his small blue journal. He sighed, leaning against the fence. He began to write.

4 November, 1992  
We lost Chris. We don't know what it was that killed him; perhaps it was starvation, perhaps it was hypothermia. Whatever it was... Our morale has taken a huge hit from his death.  
Graeme's been taking it the worst out of all of us. He carried his dead body around for the longest time, and Meriel and I eventually had to bury Chris' body deep in the woods whilst Graeme looked on. Though Graeme did get very upset at first, he eventually realised that he couldn't do this all the time. So Meriel and I washed Chris' purple jumper in a creek the best we could, then gave it to Graeme to hold onto. He seems content with just his jumper, it's something to remind him of his mate.  
As for all of us, we've used up all our food. We have nothing except some bottles of water. I feel like death will be coming for all of us soon. It's only a waiting game right now.  
And when it finally comes for me, well I will be happy at last.  
Ian

He closed it, putting it in his bag. He looked up at the sky, seeing the stars shining above them, the moon in a waning crescent. He closed his eyes, laying down onto the grass. As he fell asleep, he thought about life before the war, how things were wonderful, and how full of life and happiness everybody was...  
Ian was back at Harold Avenue. The houses stood above him, and he walked along the street, taking in the sights around him. A familiar face entered his vision, and with an elated gasp Ian ran at the man.  
"Ashley!!"  
Ashley turned around, greeting Ian cheerfully as they embraced.  
"Where have you been?" Ashley gasped, "It's so good to see you!"  
"I've been looking for you!" Ian said, a broad smile on his face.  
"Well here I am," Ashley said, "And Ian, I'm not leaving any time soon."  
Ian nodded, putting a hand on Ashley's shoulder.  
"Ash, I thought the war got to you... I thought you were dead," he sighed. Ashley embraced Ian once more.  
"No," he said, "I never died. I'm still here..."  
Ian broke down, tears of joy on his face.  
"I'm still here..."  
Ian returned the man's hug, and they held each other for a long time, even as the sound of a missile roared above them.  
Ian awoke suddenly, a jolt going through him. He looked around, and it was then he realised his arms were outstretched, as if holding someone.  
Ian trembled, curling into a ball as he wept. He mourned his lost friends, ones he never got to say goodbye to.  
For the first time since the air strike, Ian felt all alone.


	10. Chapter Ten

They had been walking all day. They had blisters on their soles from the amount that they had been doing, and as Ian traced the lines of his chest with his hands, he could feel his ribs poking from underneath his pale skin.  
The other two were in a similar state; Meriel was frail enough before the war, but the walking and her illness made her appear skeletal. And then there was Graeme, who appeared deathly thin compared to his stocky build before.  
Ian stared at the night sky. There the moon shone above them, a part of the sky illuminated around it. The landscape itself was glowing in the moonlight, and in the distance he couldn't see any city or town lights. He surmised that if there had been something out there, it, too, had been wiped out by the war.  
A noise sounded beside him, where Meriel was laying. She had a tone of pain in the noises she made, and immediately he knew something was wrong.  
"Meriel?" He looked over to her and gasped at what he saw. She was contorted in pain, clutching her waist, and her blue eyes were brimming with tears of pain.  
"Ian... Oh god... It hurts..." she gasped, another whimper, louder this time, escaping her as she curled into a ball.  
Ian held her, holding her hand.  
"Meriel? Meriel, what's wrong?!" Ian asked. Graeme had moved over to them now as well, holding her other hand as she tried and failed to say what was happening. Instead, her whimpers had become gasps and yelps of pain.  
"Oh god, I don't know what's happening!"  
Ian began to panic. He looked to Graeme, but he couldn't figure out what was wrong either. It was then that Ian looked down and noticed a liquid spreading in her trousers. In the darkness, he couldn't tell whether or not it was urine. But the way Meriel was gasping...  
"Wait, Meriel... Do you think it's your-?"  
"I don't know," she said with a sharp inhale, "I missed it last month, and I never-"  
She stopped, her eyes widening as she realised what was going on. And looking at Ian's face, she could tell he was thinking the same.  
"Ian, I think... I think I may be-"  
"FUCK!" Ian wouldn't hear no more; he scrambled to remove her trousers and underwear, and Graeme did his best to comfort her. Meriel wouldn't hear any of it; the pain she felt was growing stronger.  
"It's gonna be okay, just deep breaths," Graeme gently but firmly instructed. Ian had finally taken her lower garments off, and the puddle grew even more. Meriel tensed up, whimpering loudly as she did so. Tears ran down her cheeks now, and as Ian looked around, he could see no sign of anyone who could or would come to their aid. His heart raced, his breathing quickening.  
"Oh god... Oh god..." he whispered to himself. He looked down once more, noticing the puddle now had chunks of... Something. Ian felt sick, a cold sweat forming on his forehead, and looking around he wondered if he could be able to leave the two alone for a minute.  
"It's okay, you're gonna be okay," Graeme whispered to her. Meriel sobbed, her body trembling with pain and terror.  
"Oh god... Graeme... Graeme I feel horrible..." she panted.  
"It's okay... It's okay..." Graeme repeated, not sounding too sure of it himself. Ian kneeled down, desperately trying to avoid the sight of Meriel.  
"Wait..." Graeme said, "What... What's that?" Graeme looked closely at the chunks in the puddle. His eyes widened in horror.  
"Wh- Is that a...?"  
Ian looked again, against his better judgment. There was a huge puddle of blood underneath Meriel. And in that blood was something darker than the liquid around it. Something organic.  
Ian stood, his stomach turning.  
"Guys, guys I'll be right back," Ian quickly said, turning towards the bushes nearby. He didn't hear what Graeme was saying as he ran towards them.  
It was there that his stomach completely emptied, the sour fluid filling his mouth and falling onto the ground below him. He violently retched and heaved, trembling as the image of Meriel's miscarriage replayed in his head.  
After what seemed like several minutes, he finally finished vomiting. He stood upright, wiping his mouth and returning to Graeme and Meriel. He noticed Graeme holding Meriel close to him, and she seemed to be sobbing. Ian broke into a run despite his wobbling legs.  
"Graeme, Graeme is she-"  
Ian was cut off by Meriel sobbing loudly. Ian fell to his knees, grabbing her hand.  
"Meriel?"  
No response, save for a quiet "I'm sorry".  
Ian looked to Graeme, then to her.  
"Meriel... Baby, what are you talking about?"  
Ian held Meriel close, her frail body pressed against his as he grabbed a lock of her hair.  
"Meriel... It's okay, sweetheart."  
Graeme put his hand on Ian's back. Ian didn't notice, nor did he care.  
"I'm sorry, Ian... I'm sorry..."  
Ian gently stroked Meriel's hair, shushing her softly.  
"Meriel, baby whatever it is, it's okay. I promise."  
"No Ian, it isn't!" She looked up at him, tears filling her blue eyes. "Remember that week in September when we went to Paris?"  
Of course Ian remembered. How couldn't he? The two had gone together on a special trip Ian had planned for the two of them. He loved seeing the sights with her, even if he had already seen them before. He loved the passionate nights they spent there in the luxurious hotel. He wished he could return to that moment, when it was simpler and happier.  
"Yes?" Ian was confused at what Meriel was getting at.  
"That night..." Meriel gasped, "Ian, I should have known better..."  
"What-?"  
It hit Ian then. His blood turned to ice as he realised what she was trying to say. He looked to Graeme, his eyes wide. Graeme didn't say anything, but looked just as stunned as Ian.  
"That was our child, Ian..." Meriel's voice trailed off as another sob wracked her body. "It's my fault..."  
"NO!" Ian laid his hand on her shoulder, staring into her eyes.  
"Meriel, please don't think for even one second that it was your fault. If anyone, I should take the blame for it. I... I didn't use protection that night. I put you through this." He sighed, and quietly said, "I'm sorry, Meriel."  
"He's right," Graeme chimed in, "Things like that happen sometimes. It's nothing to blame yourself for."  
Meriel embraced him, her head against his chest. Graeme joined them, the three of them holding each other close under the moon.  
"Ian..." Meriel said, "I forgive you."  
They held each other in silence for a few minutes. Then they silently pulled away.  
"Let's just get some rest now," Ian suggested. "We'll have to start walking again tomorrow, we need the energy."  
Graeme and Meriel nodded in agreement. Graeme returned to his place, while Meriel curled into Ian, who gently stroked her hair as they fell asleep under the stars.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Graeme awoke, the moon low near the horizon, and he could see the first rays of dawn begin to appear. He laid back down, staring at the sky. The remnants of his dream remained in his mind, and fruitlessly he tried to figure out what they meant. He stood, shaking his head; it wouldn't matter in a few months' time anyway.  
He quietly started off towards the edge of the woods, looking behind him to ensure Ian and Meriel were still asleep. He felt a chill as he reached the first tree in his sight, relieving himself beside it. The sun's rays grew brighter, and he knew the others would be awake soon. As he finished and straightened himself back up, he wondered how much longer it would be before they all were gone.  
He fell then, a sharp pain digging into his ankle. With a grunt he turned to look behind him; as he pulled his leg towards him, the pain grew sharper, as if barbed wire was slicing into his skin.  
He reached down.  
And there, on his ankle, was the unmistakable feeling of metal wire.  
Panic burned in his chest, and looking to the others he could see no sign of stirring from either of them.  
"Fuck..."  
He grabbed his knife from his pocket, attempting to cut the wire to free himself and try to limp back to the camp.  
"Come on," he whispered to himself, "come on, fucking hell come on..."  
The wire remained steadfast, and Graeme was barely making a dent in it. He sighed, a sob of frustration and fear escaping him. He looked back, and while the sun was growing higher in the sky, Ian and Meriel still slept, curled into each other.  
Graeme took a deep breath. There was only one thing he could do to get out of this. He wouldn't like it, but it had to be done.  
He stuffed part of his jacket into his mouth, pulling his trouser leg up. The barbs dug further into him, and he could see blood seeping from his wounds.  
He placed the blade against his skin, and with a shaky breath he began to slowly slice into his ankle. He whimpered softly as more blood poured from him, sobbing as the pain intensified.  
Behind him, he could hear footsteps approaching, getting faster the closer they got to him.  
"Jock?" came Ian's voice. Graeme looked to him, eyes wide with pain and panic.  
"What's wrong? Are you hurt?"  
Graeme nodded, tears flowing from his eyes. Ian looked down, a scream escaping him.  
"MERIEL!!" He called for her, and she raised her head, looking around in a drowsy haze.  
"MERIEL, GRAEME'S BEEN CAUGHT IN A SNARE TRAP!!"  
She stood, running over to them as fast as her legs could carry her. She kneeled down beside them, looking at his ankle. The wire had sunken further into him as he had attempted to raise his leg, but Ian gently lowered it back down again. Blood poured out from the wounds, and it made Ian woozy to look at.  
"It seems in too deep," she said, "There wouldn't be any use in trying to pull it out."  
"I... Tried to cut it..." Graeme whimpered, "It wouldn't go..." Meriel took the knife from him, a deep breath leaving her as she continued to survey his injuries.  
"It's no use," Graeme said, "You're just... Gonna have to..." He shuddered, closing his eyes and laying down.  
"We're gonna have to what?" Ian asked. He and Meriel looked to each other.  
"Just please... Please kill me..." Graeme gasped, "I can't take it anymore... I want to be dead..."  
Ian's eyes widened, as did Meriel's. Meriel looked at the knife in her hand, then to Graeme, who seemed to be silently begging her to do it.  
Meriel began to sob, throwing the knife onto the ground.  
"I can't do it," she cried. Ian picked up the knife, holding it as tightly in his hand as he could. His hands were trembling and beginning to sweat from terror.  
"Well Graeme," Ian began with a shaky breath, "If you want us to go ahead and kill you..."  
"Please Ian, I want to be with Chris again..." Graeme sobbed, "I want to be happy again..."  
Ian allowed a few tears to fall from his eyes. He lifted Graeme's shirt, revealing his chest. Ian felt his stomach churn, his breathing laboured as he surveyed his friend. Graeme was nothing but skin and bones by this point, and Ian decided that Graeme would die soon anyway.  
He allowed the tip of the knife to gently touch Graeme's chest, just over his heart.  
"Want to say anything else, Jock?"  
Graeme nodded.  
"Ian... Meriel... You two were some of the best friends I've ever had..." Graeme paused as a quiet sob escaped him, "And just know that I love you both so much..."  
"We love you too, Graeme," Meriel whimpered, holding Graeme's hand. She closed her eyes tightly, turning away as Ian sighed shakily.  
"We love you, Jock..." Ian cried.  
"Goodbye..."  
"Goodbye, Graeme..."  
"Goodbye..." Meriel whispered, sobs wracking her body.  
Ian lifted the knife, then swiftly brought it down into Graeme's heart. Graeme gasped, his body jolting as he coughed blood. Ian whimpered quietly before bringing the knife down into Graeme again.  
He didn't stop until Graeme had finally died, his body going limp in front of Ian.  
"Fucking hell..." Ian gasped, "Fucking hell..."  
Ian threw the knife into the field, bringing his hands to his face as his emotions overcame him. He sobbed loudly, screaming as the image of Graeme thrashing about before he died replayed in his head.  
Meriel held Ian, desperately avoiding looking at her friend's lifeless body. She sobbed into his chest, her body shaking as she felt Ian wrap his arms around her.  
"I can't believe I did that," Ian gasped, "I can't fucking believe I killed our friend..."  
"But Ian, he wanted you to. He was suffering and he said it himself, he wanted to be with Chris." Meriel put her hand on Ian's shoulder, gazing into his eyes.  
"You didn't do anything wrong," she continued, "So don't beat yourself up over it."  
Ian looked at her, nodding slowly as he began to stand up.  
"I guess the only thing to do now is to bury him."  
Until the sun was low in the sky, they stayed in the fields, burying their friend and mourning his loss. And just before the moon rose in the sky, they looked to each other, silently wondering which of them would be next.


	12. Chapter Twelve

With Graeme gone, it was only Ian and Meriel left. They walked slowly along a trail, not really knowing or caring where they were. They walked close to each other, the cold November wind starting to blow more fiercely around them.  
Meriel felt herself grow weaker. She stopped, collapsing with a sigh. Ian gasped, kneeling beside her and holding her in his arms.  
"Meriel... Meriel, baby are you okay?!"  
Meriel could barely respond, but shook her head as Ian's heart raced. He picked her up, walking over to a nearby tree and sitting down, leaning against it. He rested Meriel on his lap, her head on his shoulder. She had closed her eyes, and weakly nuzzled into the crook of his neck. He could feel her breathing grow more erratic. Tears filled his eyes, his lip trembling as he realised what was happening.  
"Oh Mez... Baby, please don't leave me..." Ian whispered as quiet sobs began to escape him, "Please not now..."  
Meriel said nothing, but squeezed his arm slightly. Ian held her, mentally noting how eerily thin she had gotten; he guessed she had dropped down to at least four stone by this point.  
"Ian..." came her weak voice.  
"Yes, baby?"  
"Sing me... That... Song we loved..." she shakily gasped, a slight rattling in it.  
"Bright Eyes?"  
Meriel weakly nodded.  
"Okay..." Ian said, wiping his eyes. He cleared his throat, and with a shaky breath he began to sing.  
'Is it a kind of dream,  
Floating out on the tide?  
Following the river of death downstream,  
Oh is it a dream?...'  
Meriel closed her eyes again, attempting to hum along, but her lungs were quickly failing her.  
'There's a fog along the horizon,  
A strange glow in the sky...  
And nobody seems to know where it goes,  
And what does it mean?  
Oh, is it a dream?...'  
Ian felt more tears in his eyes, looking to Meriel as she trembled from the wind.  
'Bright eyes, burning like fire...  
Bright eyes, how can you close and fail?  
How can the light that burned so brightly,  
Suddenly burn so pale?  
Bright eyes...'  
Ian sobbed quietly now, but decided to keep singing, if only for his dying beloved.  
'Is it a kind of shadow,  
Reaching into the night?  
Wandering over the hills unseen,  
Or is it a dream?  
There's a high wind in the trees,  
A cold sound in the air...  
And nobody ever knows when you go,  
And where do you start?  
Oh, into the dark...'  
Meriel stopped shaking, a final sigh escaping her, her body going limp.  
'Bright eyes, burning like fire...  
Bright eyes, how can you close and fail?  
How can the light that burned so brightly,  
Suddenly burn so pale?  
Bright eyes...  
Bright eyes, burning like fire...  
Bright eyes, how can you close and fail?  
How can the light that burned so brightly,  
Suddenly burn so pale?  
Bright eyes...'  
Ian could barely finish the final lines; his sobs overtook him as he cradled Meriel's inert form. He kissed her lips softly, feeling the warmth of them fading. He stared at her, noting how beautiful she was even in death.  
It was then he stood up, still cradling her. He walked out into the woods and slowly rested her body on the ground. He sighed, taking her scarf off of her and putting it in his backpack. He took the small shovel they had found when they buried Chris and began to dig.  
As he dug the hole to bury her in, he thought back to all of the events that had happened in the last few months; everything, from the deaths of his friends, to the storms that plagued their journey, to the initial bombing of Leeds town centre - the very thing that caused them all of this strife in the first place. He still resented everyone involved in the war. If it hadn't been for them, he'd still have his home. He'd still have his friends and family. He'd still have everything he could've ever wanted or needed.  
He exhaled sharply as he finished with the hole. He picked Meriel back up again, gently laying her body in the shallow grave. He placed her hands on her stomach, one crossed over the other.  
It was then that he started laying the dirt over her. He concentrated on her, taking one final look at her before the dirt covered her.  
After what seemed like the longest time, he was done with burying her. He threw the shovel into the woods; it wouldn't be of use anymore, since he had no one to bury...  
And no one to bury him.


	13. Chapter 13

Ian lay in the grass, his backpack beside his body, his eyes fixed on the sky. Blood ran down his arms, staining the grass below them. His arms stung, but he didn't care anymore. He didn't need anything now, not with his best friends and family gone. Not with the lack of food and water.  
He wanted nothing but to be reunited with the closest friends he ever had, and the woman he loved more than anything else.  
He gave one last sigh, hoping that death would free him from the hell that he had experienced over the last few months. He hoped to see Meriel again, imagining that she would greet him in the afterlife, and he would feel her warmth again, never departing from her side. He hoped to see Graeme and Chris, who would give him a cheerful slap on the back, asking jokingly what took him so long.  
A cold December breeze blew around him. It didn't matter to him how cold he was, he would die soon anyhow. He hummed a soft tune as he allowed his eyes to slowly shut, patiently awaiting death.  
In the distance, he could hear another air strike. He hummed slightly louder, yet still weakly. He folded his hands over his stomach, turning his head to the left of him. The tune continued, and eventually he could feel himself weakening. He knew death was rapidly approaching.  
Under the clear yet moonless night sky, his body gave one last shudder, then life left him at last.


End file.
